


A Night at the Museum

by disturbedbydesign



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Light BDSM, Mildly Dubious Consent, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-23
Updated: 2012-12-23
Packaged: 2017-11-22 03:51:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/605515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disturbedbydesign/pseuds/disturbedbydesign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucy's job at the British Museum takes an interesting turn when a strange man joins her tour group.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Night at the Museum

Lucy’s last tour of the day was about to start and all she could think about was getting off work and meeting up with her sister for drinks. She had always dreamed of one day working at the British Museum, but having been a tour guide there for the past year – doing the same thing, so many times a day, every single day – she found herself growing tired of it and anxious to move on. Much as she loved art history – she did go to school for it, after all – she had grown thoroughly bored with her job. She wanted some excitement in her life.

When she first started, she had been one of the museum’s most enthusiastic guides, always trying to engage all the members of her groups and fielding even the strangest of questions with grace and ease. These days she was just going through the motions – especially for tours this late in the day. Over the course of the year, she had become adept at instantly identifying the one or two people in any given group who actually cared about the subject matter, and she found it simpler to focus on them and ignore everyone else.

As she performed her perfunctory scan of the last group of the day, she saw the usual suspects: a group of unruly children with intentionally oblivious parents; a travel group of middle-aged Americans (collectively averaging about a 6.5 on the morbid obesity scale) who were going to pretend they understood her by smiling and nodding; an older gentleman, alone, who looked like he could be a professor of some sort (he was the one to pay attention to); a young couple – clearly on one of their first few dates – who would have eyes only for each other.

And then she saw him. Lucy was immediately taken aback, struck by the fact that, for the first time in a long time, she couldn’t get a read on someone. The man was tall – really tall – with long, black hair slicked back and almost inhumanly pale skin. Despite the summer heat, he wore a black suit and tie, a white dress shirt, and a long black coat with a scarf. He carried an ornately crafted cane despite having no perceptible disability. And his eyes – his eyes were impossibly green. She could see them from across the room, staring at her, unblinking. Her breath caught in her throat and all of a sudden she felt very, very cold.

As the hour-long tour progressed, Lucy went through her well-practiced speeches about each artifact, moving across the room in the pre-established order and fielding questions here and there. As anticipated, the older gentleman was very engaged in the tour and asked intelligent questions, which she happily answered. Also unsurprisingly, one of the fat Americans (probably trying to impress his friends) kept asking questions which he thought would make him sound smart and cultured but which, in reality, had the opposite effect. After one particularly ridiculous question, Lucy had to turn her head away – pretending to be thinking about the answer but really trying not to laugh. That’s when she got caught in the emerald stare of the mysterious man with the cane.

He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her the entire tour – hadn’t so much as glanced at any of the art that he was ostensibly there to see, and up until then she had done her best to avoid meeting his gaze. Something about him absolutely terrified her, although she couldn’t pinpoint what exactly she was frightened of. He was standing completely still at the back of the group, but he was so tall that he towered over everyone and she could see his face clear as if he were right in front of her. His piercing eyes were locked onto her – they moved where she moved. His gaze was intense and menacing and she could physically feel his eyes on her – penetrating her all over her, making her feel naked. She wanted to look away but she felt like some strange power was holding her eyes onto to his. She stood dumbfounded and locked in a silent stare with the dark-haired stranger until the fat American spoke up – demanding an answer to his previous inquiry. She had never in her life been so happy to answer a stupid question.

Lucy managed to make it through the rest of the tour without again meeting eyes with the man with the cane, although there wasn’t one second that went by when she didn’t feel his presence in the room. She even went so far as to forgo asking if anyone had any final questions at the end that they wanted to stay after and discuss with her. She ducked out of the exhibit hall as fast as she could, feeling the man’s gaze boring into her backside and she exited the room, and headed for the staff room to gather her things. She didn’t notice until she got to the employee lounge that she had been holding her breath the whole time.

The museum was officially closed for the day and as Lucy left the staff area she couldn’t help but notice that the usual security guards posted around the building were nowhere to be found. In fact, there was no one around at all. The main lights were dimmed and the only sound she could hear was the echo of her own footsteps as she quickly made her way across the building to the exit. She was rounding a darkened corner when she felt an ice cold hand reach around from behind and clamp over her mouth.

“Don’t be afraid,” hissed a smooth voice in the darkness. “You’re going to like what comes next.”

Before she could think to cry out she was spun around and face to face with the dark-haired man. He wore the devil’s grin as he leaned down to her, his face barely an inch from her own. One hand still clamped firmly across her mouth, he brought his cane up with the other and traced a gentle line down from her temple to her chin. He let the tip rest under her jaw, pressing in on her windpipe. He put his lips to her ear and whispered, “Come with me.”

In one swift motion he swung her up and over his shoulder and held her there with one arm, the other arm brandishing the cane, which clicked rhythmically against the marble floor keeping time with his long strides. She was still dazed and breathless from the force of the cane’s tip on her throat and before she knew it, she found herself in some dark recess of the museum basment, on the floor of a room she hadn’t even known existed. It was filled with strange-looking artifacts the likes of which she had never seen in her extensive studies. There were no lights on but the room was bathed in an eerie shade of blue, which seemed to emanate from the relics themselves. She managed to mumble out a few words.

“Where… where am I?”

She saw the cane flip once in his hand as he strode toward her and then felt only searing pain as it came crashing across the side of her face.

“Did I say you could speak?”

She brought her hand to her cheek where he’d struck her, expecting to feel a bloodied gash, but when she took her hand away and looked there was nothing. The blow had left no physical mark, only an icy hot streak of pain. He reached down and traced the line of his blow with a long, delicate finger and suddenly the pain was gone and replaced with a pleasurable tingle.

“As you see, I can inflict both pain and pleasure. What happens next is up to you.”

She should have been terrified, screaming, looking for some outlet or escape, but she found herself completely paralyzed by his gaze. Going against every survival instinct screaming inside of her, she dared speak again.

“Please… please just tell me who you are and what you want.”

She closed her eyes and braced herself for another blow but it did not come. She glanced up to see him looking at her inquisitively from the corner of the room, resting his long, lean frame on the tip of his cane.

“You are a bold one, I see. Deserving of my punishment but also worthy of pleasure. I am going to ask you three questions and you are going to answer them honestly. If you lie, I will know, and you will suffer for it. Now tell me, do I frighten you?”

“Yes.”

“Do I excite you?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want to leave? And before you answer this last and most important question, know this: If you say yes, I will let you go. I will not harm you. I will not follow you. You will never see me again. But you will also never know who I am or what I am here for, the memory of this night will haunt you nightly in your dreams and no one will ever believe your story. You will go mad wondering whether I was a dream or reality.”

In one seamless motion he crossed the room and yanked her to her feet by her shoulders, holding her an inch from his face, which seemed to glow with its own light.

“Now answer the question. Do you want to leave?”

“No.”

The final answer flew from her lips before she even knew what she was saying, and he eased his iron grip on her shouders. A sly smile spread across his lips.

“That’s what I thought.”

Lucy stared at him, motionless, waiting for permission to speak.

“What is your name?”

“Lucy.”

“Well, Lucy, it is only fair that I offer you the same courtesy you have allowed me, so you may ask me three questions and I will answer them honestly. Choose your words carefully, because you get only three.”

He released his grip on her and returned to the corner, where he watched her and waited.

“Who are you?”

“Ah, a question excellently phrased. Had you asked just my name, that is all you would have received. But who I AM is much more complicated.”

He sauntered toward her and lifted his cane, pointing it in a sweeping circle around the room.

“You see these things here? I am not so different – I was just another stolen relic from another world, locked away until someone might have use of me. But I have broken free of my shackles, and I have come to claim what is mine. Who am I? I am a God. I am _your_ God.”

Lucy should have thought he was completely mad, but she believed him. For whatever reason, she believed him.

“What do you want?”

He shook his head.

“Tsk tsk. Far too vague a question, for I want many things. I could tell you simply that I want a glass of water and I would not be lying. But since you are such an exquisite creature and so well behaved, I will answer the question you meant to ask, which is what is my purpose here.”

Lucy was mesmerized by the way he spoke and the way his long fingers brushed her cheek when he had called her exquisite. Something was happening to her, something strange and terrifying and wonderful. She hung on his every word and could not take her eyes off of him.

“I am Loki of Asgard and I am burdened with glorious purpose. I have come to reclaim what was stolen from me. This room holds all that I need to take my rightful place as your master and overlord – to claim humanity as my own and rule the people of Earth as your king.”

Lucy searched her racing mind for the words needed to get the answer she so desperately wanted.

“One last question, my pet. And don’t keep me waiting.”

“Why have you chosen me?”

Loki smiled lasciviously down at her.

“Oh, lovely Lucy. I could tell just by looking at you that you crave subjugation. You were made to be ruled, and you will be the first to kneel.”

In a flash he was on her, grabbing her hair hard and pulling her into a deep kiss. His lips felt ice cold but his breath was hot and moist as his tongue twined around hers. She raised her hands to run them through his hair when he abrubtly pulled back and caught her by the wrists. He spun her around and bound her arms behind her back with his scarf, pushing her to her knees once he had secured her.

“I thought I told you to kneel.”

He was behind her and she could hear his ragged breathing as he undid his belt buckle. She heard the rustling of clothes and the soft thump of fabric hitting the floor. When he spun her back around he was completely naked and she drank in the sight of his pale skin and his lean, powerful body. His cock was enormous and rock hard.

“Pleasure me, Lucy. I know this is what you crave.”

He grabbed her by the hair and shoved the whole length of his shaft down her throat repeatedly, fucking her mouth until she almost passed out for lack of air. When she thought she could take no more, he yanked her off of him, tilting her head back and  looking down at her with glowing green eyes.

“Very good. Now slower. Worship it as you will worship me.”

He took one hand away from her hair and grabbed the base of his erection, holding it at an angle above her face and willing her to lick it. She complied, running her tongue slowly from the base to the tip, feeling his blood throbbing in the veins that ran the length of his massive shaft. He let out a series of short, carnal grunts as she swirled the tip of her tongue around his head. She took just the tip into her mouth and began to massage it gently with her lips as he ran his hand lightly up and down his shaft. She could taste just a drop of his juices as she tongued the hole at the tip and she moaned onto his cock as she let it drip down her throat, sending vibrations of pleasure running through his entire godly frame and causing him to groan in ecstasy.

Before she knew it she was on her feet and her wrists were freed from the scarf that bound them. Holding the scarf between gritted teeth, he ripped her blouse open and straight off her body. He cupped and squeezed her breasts in his icy hands and her already hard nipples became almost unbearably erect against the lace fabric of her bra. He unclasped her bra and let it fall to the floor next to her as he yanked her skirt down around her ankles. He buried one hand in the back of her hair and let the other trace a line in between her breasts and down her stomach. When he reached the top of her thong, just above her mound, he stopped.

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat and she looked at him. He took the scarf from between his teeth.

“Turn around.”

Lucy did as she was told and he brought the scarf around her head, blindfolding her. She felt his strong arms lift her up and moments later she was bent over a cold metal table, facedown and arms over her head gripping the steel. She felt his breath on her skin as he ripped her thong off her body with his teeth. He pushed her legs wider apart with his knee as he traced down the length of her spine with two fingers until he came to her opening. Without ceremony, he plunged two long fingers deep inside her and she screamed out with pleasure. She was dripping wet and he moved them furiously in and out of her as she continued to scream. He slowed and found her g-spot with his middle finger, working it violently until he started to feel her walls tighten around him and her screams faded to jagged breaths. He stopped before she found release.

“You are ready. Now we shall see where your loyalty lies.”

She was left wanting and stranded on the verge, and the absence of sight heightened all her other senses. Every inch of her body was buzzing and the sound of her own heart beating was deafening in the silent room. That’s when she heard the familiar, rhythmic clicking moving slowly toward her and then stop.

“Who is your God?”

“You. You are my God.”

He brought the cane down across her bare ass with all the power of Asgard and she screamed out in delicious agony.

“I said, WHO IS YOUR GOD?”

She tried to answer but her mind could not form words. He brought the cane down on her again, three hard lashes in quick succession, and she made a noise that sounded inhuman in her own ears.

“I’ll ask you one more time – who is your God and your King?”

The sensations coursing through her body threatened to put her over the edge of consciousness but somehow she managed to yell out to him through the haze of pain and pleasure.

“LOKI! Loki is my God and my King!”

He laughed maniacally and she could hear the clatter of the cane dropping to the floor. She felt his magic fingers trace a line across the searing flesh of her ass and the white hot agony turned instantly to a pleasure unlike any she had ever known. She almost achieved release just from his touch.

She felt his hands untie the blindfold and he rolled her over on her back, pulling her up to face him. His eyes seemed warmer as he leaned in and grazed her ear with his lips as he spoke.

“You have proven your loyalty to me, Lucy. I know that you will worship me. Now you will be rewarded.”

He stood between her legs and cupped her face in his hands as he kissed her slowly and deeply, more passionately than he had before. For the first time, when she went to touch him, he didn’t try to stop her. Her hands found his long, black hair at last and she grabbed fistfuls of it as she pulled him down on top of her. The tip of his cock teased her opening as they devoured each other. He pulled his face away and buried it in between her breasts as he massaged them. He took one nipple in his mouth and nibbled it lightly as he rubbed the other between two fingers. Lucy moaned deeper with every flick of his finger or tongue on her body. She untangled one hand from his hair and found his massive erection, gripping it firmly and stroking it up and down as she rubbed it against her clit.

“Fuck me, my King. I beg you. Take me any way you want me.”

He lifted his mouth from her breast.

“Not yet. I need to taste you.”

He pulled her down to the edge of the table and threw her legs over his shoulders as he lowered himself down onto her. He licked her slowly up and down a few times before settling his mouth on her clit. He held her hips firm as he swirled the tip of his tongue around and around, faster and faster until she started to cry out and buck against him. He brought a hand down from her hip and teased her slick lips with one long finger as he continued to work her clit with his mouth. He brought another finger to her opening, sliding the two fingers together from the top of her folds to the bottom, and when he plunged both fingers inside her she came so hard she nearly fainted.

She had barely recovered from her climax when he sat her up and took her all at once, shoving his cock into her to the hilt and filling her with ice and fire. He grunted like an animal with each forceful thrust and she screamed with pleasure as she clawed at his back. Her hands found his muscular ass and she gripped it tight as she screamed his name, keeping time with his rhythm.

“Loki! Loki! My God! My King!”

He reached around his back and brought her arms up around his neck as he lifted her off the table, his strong hands gripping her ass as he walked her over to the side of the room. She clung to him with her legs wrapped tightly around his waist and her arms at his neck as he fucked her senseless against the cold basement wall. He quickened his pace and then stopped, remaining motionless with the full length of him still throbbing inside of her.

He walked her back over to the table and laid himself down on it so that she was now straddling him. Lucy moved up and down on his cock slowly, almost teasingly, wanting to feel every inch of him inside of her. As she rocked up and down, he brought his thumb to her clit, circling it while she rode him and bringing her close to the edge again. He began to buck underneath her as she fucked him and she knew he was close, too. She leaned in and grabbed the hair at the back of his head as she continued to slam herself onto on him.

“Fill me with your God seed, my King. I want every last drop you have.”

Loki moaned deep with pleasure as he sat up, grabbing her hips as she rocked back and forth on his lap. He tightened his grip on her and quickened his pace, pounding into her hard and fast. As the muscles of her tight walls rippled with pleasure and she cried out in his ear one last time, he found his release. He held her squirming body tight against him, her muscles shaking uncontrollably as he came roaring into her. She felt his warmth spread inside of her and stayed locked in his embrace until they both fell completely limp with exhaustion.

“Thank you, my King.”

“My pleasure, lovely Lucy.”

Lucy hadn’t remembered falling asleep but when she awoke she was naked and alone in the basement room. The artifacts that had filled the room were now gone and there was no sign of Loki. There was a pile of clothing next to her on the table – new clothes to replace the ones he had destroyed in his lust – and a handwritten note that said only “fit for a Queen.” She put them on, wondering if he would ever be back for her. She was nothing now without her king. She knew she was made to be ruled. 


End file.
